


Delete (The Ghosts and Memories Remix)

by laireshi



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Extremis, Hallucinations, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi
Summary: Tony knows this Steve isn't real. He's a hallucination; less than a ghost. He still doesn't let Tony destroy himself.





	Delete (The Ghosts and Memories Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Burning the Midnight Oil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714188) by [AngeNoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir). 



> Thanks to Comicsohwhyohwhy for beta!
> 
> Steve's canonically dead at this point in time. It's an alternative look at Tony just before his brain delete.
> 
> This remix is part of a relay chain; you can find the full [masterlist](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Cap_Ironman_Relay_Remix_2018/profile) on the Collection profile page. This is the last fic of the Flower Chain.

Tony looks at the computer screen in front of him. It’s all there, ready for Tony to compile it and run the program on the unique hardware that’s his brain. He double-checked. He knows he’s effectively committing suicide, so it shouldn’t matter if the program executed wrongly—but that’s not the point, the point is that _no one_ will be able to retrieve any information from his brain, alive or dead.

That all the knowledge of the SHRA database dies with Tony. 

He just has to connect the cable and run it, wipe his brain clear of _everything_. 

Of Steve.

Once upon a time, Tony would’ve never willingly given his memories of Steve away. Now, when his most recent memory is looking at Steve’s dead body, crying so hard he could barely see anyway, attending Steve’s funeral, Steve dead because of him—Tony might as well have killed him himself.

And he can’t go on like that longer; he can’t go on without Steve, this is it, this is his last heroic act. _Heroic_ , and he wants to laugh at himself. He’s a coward. But he’ll keep everyone safe.

It’s not like this _is_ the end for him, either. Maria has a copy of his memories. She can bring him back. So really, Tony’s just being overdramatic. Of course, she probably won’t find him in time if he runs the current version—the one that wipes his memories in a split second. Tony decided against using the other version, the one that gives him time but is not less effective for it. He doesn’t want more time. He doesn’t need it, either, Maria is a skilled agent.

His fingers fly over the keyboard. He could make the last preparations with Extremis, but he’s about to be rid of it; it feels proper to type. He’s ready.

He reaches for the cable that’ll connect him, his _body_ , to the computer.

“I know you,” Steve’s voice says.

Tony stands up, almost trips over his own legs, swirls around. There’s no one there. Of course there’s no one there, because _Steve is dead and it’s Tony’s fault_. It’s not like he hasn’t hallucinated before. Of course Steve comes to fucking haunt him now—but even that is not Steve’s fault but Tony’s own. 

“You always have a back-up plan,” Steve says after Tony sits back down.

Tony doesn’t get up again. He closes his eyes tight. He’s alone. He knows he is.

“I have a plan,” he says.

“Liar,” Steve accuses, and Tony can’t stand it.

“I have a plan!” he yells. “I have, okay, this is not it, this is just to get rid of SHRA, not—not—”

“No, Tony,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s close to him, and Tony opens his eyes. 

Steve’s right in front of his face. He’s not real. Extremis hallucinations are very, very high quality. But he’s real enough, and Tony wants to touch him.

He doesn’t let himself.

“You and I both know,” Steve says. “You gave Maria the disk, yes. You’re not planning to use it.”

“That’s not true,” Tony protests weakly.

“You’re trying to kill yourself, and you’re saying it’s for the higher good. End justifies the means, right, Tony? I disagreed, so you killed me?”

“No,” Tony says. He covers his face with his hands. He thinks he’s crying. “I didn’t—I never wanted you to get hurt.”

“Some futurist you are,” Steve mocks.

“I’m sorry,” Tony sobs. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t worth it, Steve.”

“Wasn’t it?” Tony watches Steve look around, scowling. “I suppose so, if you’re now hiding in these conditions.”

“It’s not that—” Tony tries to say, weakly, but Steve interrupts him again. 

He’s pointing at the cable, the one that Tony will use to upload the program into his body. “Is that how you’ll do it?” 

“Wireless isn’t safe,” Tony says through clattering teeth, suddenly cold and scared. 

“Is safety a concern when you’re trying to kill yourself?”

God, he’s just had the same conversation with himself, he doesn’t need to rehash it with a figment of his imagination. But this is _Steve_. Tony can’t—it’s all a lie, it’s his own brain playing tricks on him, and he’s helpless to make it stop.

“I need to delete the database,” he says.

“That’s not your goal, though,” Steve says. “For that, a bullet through the heart would really be easier. I’m just surprised you lasted that long.”

So is Tony, but he had to keep going, he had to, _for Steve_ , because he knew that after everything—Steve wouldn’t have forgiven him for giving up.

He’s so tired now. Steve won’t forgive him many things. What’s one more?

“Yes,” he sobs. “Yes, okay. I want to die.” He’s crying so hard he can barely see. 

Steve’s on him them, his hands on Tony’s throat. They’re icy cold—of course they are. Because Steve’s dead.

“Won’t that be a better option?” he whispers into Tony’s ear.

Tony’s shaking all over, but he finds the strength to shake his head. “No,” he says. “No. Because it’s not what I need. And I need to keep them safe.”

“You’re just killing yourself, you selfish bastard,” Steve says, his hands still on Tony’s neck, a threat.

Tony closes his eyes tight. “Destroying the SHRA database is more important.” They just go together. Tony doesn’t have a problem with that.

The cold disappears from his neck. He risks opening his eyes. Steve’s standing a few metres from him, his head tilted, as if he’s in thought. 

“I’m not real,” he says.

“I know,” Tony answers weakly.

Steve walks over to him again, slower this time. Tony doesn’t react as Steve reaches for him—but this time he just wipes his tears away.

“I never hated you like that,” Steve says.

“Is that what my brain would like me to believe in my final moments?” Tony asks himself. “He wanted to kill me. _I_ made him want to kill me.”

“It would be better if I had killed you then,” Steve says. “But I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”

Tony breaks into hysteric laughter. This is too much, even for him. 

“If I were real,” Steve says, “I’d tell you to fight.”

Tony’s laughter cuts out. “Don’t,” he says.

“You’re an Avenger. You don’t give up.”

Tony _was_ an Avenger. Tony is tired and lonely and _doesn’t want to fight anymore_. 

“I loved you,” Steve says. “Even when we fought.”

“Go away,” Tony says. “ _Go away_. You’re not real, _stop lying to me_ , fuck, let me do this thing—”

He grabs something, some old unimportant disc and throws it at Steve.

Steve disappears before it can hit him.

Tony breathes heavily. He puts his head in his hands. He wants to scream. He wants to drink. He wants to be free of it all.

 _You’re an Avenger. You don’t give up_.

He connects the cable to the port in his neck. It wasn’t even Steve’s ghost, it was just Tony’s fucked-up imagination powered by a technovirus. He’ll do what he planned.

 _I loved you_. 

Tears are still running down his face, but Tony manages to type. He closes his current file and opens the other program. The one that gives him time.

_Execute?_

_Y._

He has to fight.


End file.
